


I'm Only a Crack

by Cocopops1995



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Amnesia, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Gen, Hurt, Hurt Shiro (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Panic Attacks, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Shiro gets sort of Winter Soldiered, Shiro has amnesia, Team as Family, all the emotions, forced memory suppression, mentions of torture, shiro whump, vldtropesfest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-04 20:25:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12778848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cocopops1995/pseuds/Cocopops1995
Summary: There’s not much he knows. He doesn’t know where he is, or who put him here. He doesn’t know how long he’s been here, or why he was put here at all. He doesn’t know who he is. He doesn’t even know his own name. The one thing that he does know is that he has to survive. And to do that he needs to escape, before it's too late.





	1. Take Me Down to the Riverbend

**Author's Note:**

> Theme song for this fic is "Castle of Glass" by Linkin Park, from which the fic title and chapter titles are taken

Grey eyes wearily watch the door. There’s not much he knows. He doesn’t know where he is, or who put him here. He doesn’t know how long he’s been here, or why he was put here at all. He - he doesn’t know who he is. He doesn’t even know his own name. 

He doesn’t dwell on that, though. He can’t afford to. Because the one thing he knows with striking clarity, is that he has to escape. He doesn’t know why - he must be locked up here for a reason - but the knowledge that he has to escape is fuelled by an implacable need to survive. He has to survive. Any thought of giving in to those who are keeping him here, of just allowing them to do whatever they want with him, leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He doesn’t know what kind of person he was before his memories were taken from him, but that need to survive is enough to tell him that giving up is not in his nature. 

So he doesn’t dwell on what he doesn’t know. He has to be ready for when his captors come back. Instead he focuses on the little that he does know. The only clear memories he has is of when his captors have come for him. He remembers trying to fight back, he remembers them overpowering him - there’s always at least three of them, and they’re all so, so strong - and sticking something sharp into his neck. Moments after feeling that sharp prick in his neck, the fight seems to drain out of him. His limbs grow too heavy to move, and he can’t fight back no matter how hard he tries. Once he’s unable to fight back, but still aware of what’s happening to him, they shove a strange device onto his head and - he shudders at the mere thought of it - then all he knows is pain. It feels as if they’re drilling into his scalp with red-hot pokers and then pouring acid into his brain all at once. He doesn’t know what pain he’s experienced before in his life, but he doesn’t believe he’s ever felt such pain before, and he doubts any pain he feels in the future will ever compare to it. He doesn’t know how long they leave that device on his head, time loses all sense of meaning when he has it on, but eventually they do take it off. Then they leave him there, whimpering and crying on the floor like some pathetic animal. And every time they leave he’s left knowing less than he had before. He had known his name before the last time they came for him, he thinks, but now…

He knows in his bones that if he doesn’t escape, he won’t even remember that he needs to escape anymore after the next time they come for him. And he cannot allow that to happen. He won’t. So he watches the door, he waits, and he plans. He will be ready for them this time.

He glances down at his cybernetic arm, and the strange block attached to its forearm. He doesn’t know how he got that arm, or why. He doesn’t remember if it has any unique abilities, but he thinks it must have some. The little block on the forearm doesn’t look like part of the arm. He has a suspicion that whatever it is, it blocks whatever it is that his arm can do. He’s tried getting it off, but to no avail. However they attached that block, it seems to be permanent. Regardless, the arm is still metal and he can still use it as a weapon. 

If he pretends to be docile when his captors come for him again, and lets them get close to him without a fight, they might drop their guard. Then he’ll be able to lash out and attack. He’s hoping that a solid hit to the head with his very heavy metal arm will be enough to take at least one of them out. Then he’ll be able to exploit the others’ surprise to attack the next one, and knock them out as well. He will need to act quickly taking the first two out because the third will act quickly to try to subdue him, but he thinks he will be able to take one of them on in a fight and win. Well. He hopes so at least. 

He’s aware that there’s a lot that can go wrong with this plan. He’s aware that he probably won’t succeed. But it’s all he has. And he has to escape - escape to survive. There is nothing more important than surviving, by any means necessary. 

Grey eyes stay glued to the door, and he waits. He will be ready for them. He will escape.


	2. Take Me Down to the Fighting End

“Shiro?”

He lifts his head, curious despite himself, to look at the captor standing in the doorway of his cell. This one looks different from the others, he thinks. Smaller, leaner, and wearing different armour. But definitely one of his captors - they’re wearing red, after all, the same colour as all the captors that had come before them. 

“Shiro, it’s me. It’s Keith. The others are just outside. We’ve come to rescue you.”

He frowns at the obvious lie. Did his captors think that they had erased his common sense along with his memories? Well, they’re about to find out how wrong they are. 

This new captor’s behaviour is puzzling, though. They’re approaching him slowly, with both hands in plain view, not rushing at him as the previous captors had, and there’s still only one of them. Perhaps they think he’s finally calmed down enough that they don’t need to overpower him anymore? Whatever the reason, this change is completely to his advantage, and he will exploit it. 

The new captor finally reaches him and stretches a hand out to him. That’s when he strikes. 

He grabs the outstretched hand with his metal hand and pulls them forward as hard as he can. In the same movement he pushes himself up to his feet and uses the momentum to send the captor crashing to the other side of his cell. He doesn’t waste time on making sure that they’re out. He’s not sure how many more captors are waiting outside his cell, and he doesn’t want to tire himself out too early. 

Another captor steps into the doorway, obviously alerted by the first one’s cry of pain and surprise. This one’s wearing blue and has some kind of blaster weapon in their hands, but they don’t fire at him. He takes advantage of their hesitation and tackles them at the waist. The blue captor lands in a heap beneath him with a pained grunt. He delivers a blow to their helmeted head with his metal hand, leaving them dazed, before jumping to his feet again. 

“Shiro!” a voice calls out behind him as another, deeper voice calls out: “Lance!”

He spins and sees two more captors standing just off to the side of his cell’s doorway. The shorter one is wearing green while the taller, bigger one is wearing yellow. He wonders briefly what all the different colours could mean. Perhaps this is a special team of captors sent to remove the very last of his memories. He wasn’t going to allow them to do that. He needs to remember to survive. He can’t let them take that from him.

The one in green steps toward him, their hand stretched out as if to touch him. He grabs the outstretched hand and then swings them into the one wearing yellow. The one in yellow stumbles as they try to catch their fellow captor and he uses the distraction to run. He needs to get away and find some place to hide before the captors can call for back-up. 

He doesn’t get far before a body slams into him from behind. The momentum is enough to knock him to his hands and knees.

“Shiro, stop. Please! We’re only trying to help you!” 

It’s the captor in red. He didn’t expect them to recover so quickly. Or to be so fast. He won’t make that mistake again. They’re crouched next to him and he lashes out with his leg, sweeping it under their feet and knocking them over. In the same fluid motion, he twist back onto his feet. But the red captor is back on their feet as well, standing ready for a fight. Behind them he can see the other three captors catching up. The blue one seems notably wobbly on their feet. 

He doesn’t give them any more time to catch up. He rushes the one in red, intent on taking them out. This one in red is incredibly fast, though, and seems to anticipate most of his moves. He has to beat them, though. If he doesn’t they’ll take everything that’s left of him. He won’t let them do that. He has to win. He has to survive. 

He scores a solid uppercut to their chin, dislodging their helmet in the process and knocking the captor to the ground.

“Keith!” Several voices shout and he glances away from the fallen captor to see that the other three have caught up with them. 

“I’m fine, just stay back!”

He glances back down and is stunned to see a face that’s completely different from any he had ever seen among his captors. This face isn’t even of the same species of the captors he had seen before. Violet-grey eyes stare back up at him. In those eyes he can see a steely determination, but also fear and sadness. He doesn’t know why, but something about those eyes strikes some unfamiliar chord within him. 

“Shiro, please.” The person says again, “I don’t want to fight you.” 

He shakes his head and takes a step back. This - none of this makes any sense. He doesn’t understand what’s happening. He just - he needs to get away. That’s the one thing that makes sense and so he clings to it like a lifeline and takes another step back.

“Shiro.” The one in red speaks again, and this time their voice cracks and he can see tears rimming their eyes.

“Why do you keep calling me that?” he asks without thinking, his own voice rough and strained from being used for nothing other than screaming in recent memory. 

He vaguely registers multiple gasps from the other three. The one on the ground in front of him’s eyes grow wide and devastated, and when they answer their voice is small and brittle.

“Because that’s your name.” 

“My -” He’s cut off by a sudden ruckus behind him. 

He turns and sees a group of captors approaching, and these are the ones he's familiar with, right down to the same red uniform. Although, now that he’s paying attention, he notices that the red on their uniform is duller than the red of the one on the ground before him - the others had called him Keith? - that claims to know his name.

“Lance!” Keith barks behind him.

“On it.” 

He turns in time to see the one in blue raise their blaster and take aim at the approaching captors.

“Keith, we have to get out of here, now!” the small one in green hisses as the big one in yellow steps forward with a huge cannon blaster that had materialised out of nowhere and aids the one in blue with shooting at the approaching captors. 

“I know!” Keith replies and then turns back to face him.

“Listen to me.” Keith says in a voice that’s much stronger than before and now laced with determination and a hint of desperation. “Your name is Takashi Shirogane, but everyone calls you Shiro. You’re a paladin of Voltron. You fly the Black Lion. And you’re my best friend.” 

He - Shiro - shakes his head again, “I don’t - my memories - I -”

“It’s okay if you don’t remember right now.” Keith says, “ I know that, right now, you don’t know us, or trust us, but let us show you that you can.” 

Shiro hesitates but, for some inexplicable reason, he finds himself trusting Keith without him needing to prove himself. 

“Okay, we’ve bought some time but I don’t think it will be long before more of the Winsea come.” The one in blue - Lance? - says. 

“Yeah, we need to get the heck out of here, like right now!” The one in yellow adds. 

“Shiro?” Keith prompts.

Shiro looks to Keith and nods once. 

Relief rolls off, not just Keith, but all four of them, in palpable waves. Shiro wonders what exactly he meant to all these people. 

“Alright, let’s get back to the Lions.” Keith says, “Shiro, stick close. We’re not losing you again.” 

They lead Shiro through twisting hallways and along the way he learns that the small one in green is named Pidge and the big one in yellow is named Hunk. The four of them work together like a well-oiled machine and Shiro feels the strangest sense of pride, although he cannot fathom why. 

It doesn’t take them long to reach the Lions - actual huge, robotic lions, which doesn’t surprise Shiro as much as he feels it should. Soon he and Keith are in the Red Lion, and they’re flying away from the place and people that stole his memories. 

“It’s okay, now.” Keith says from the pilot’s seat of the Red Lion. “We’re going home.” 

And Shiro believes him.


	3. Wash the Poison From Off My Skin

“Well?” Keith asks.

“Just another moment, Number 4. The scans are still compiling.”

Shiro watches the red-haired man, whom Keith had introduced as Coran, wearily. Keith had said that Coran is trustworthy, a friend. Shiro trusts Keith (he still doesn’t know why, but he does) but the place he’s in now - all the medical equipment, being scanned - all of it stirs up uncomfortable feelings that he can’t explain in the pit of his stomach. Those feelings rise up to his chest, making it feel like it’s getting harder to breathe by the second. He doesn’t want to be here. He’d rather go back to the Red Lion. He’d felt safe there. Protected. He doesn’t feel like that here.

A hand lands on his shoulder and he flinches violently away from the touch, nearly throwing himself off the examination table he’d been sitting on in the first place.

“Sorry.” Keith says, holding his hands up, “I didn’t mean to startle you. You just looked like you were freaking out, and I get it. I know being in this kind of setting can’t be easy for you, but Coran has to do the scans to make sure you’re not hurt in some way, okay?” 

Shiro clenches his eyes closed and forces himself to take deep breaths. He nods once to show Keith that he’d heard him. He still doesn’t feel comfortable here but, well, he trusts Keith.

He takes another deep breath before looking at Keith and asking: “Why?” his voice still as rough and strained as before and it hurts to talk.

Keith winces slightly at the sound of it. “Why, what?”

Shiro swallows and motions to the room in general with his flesh arm. “Here. I’m uncomfortable. Why?” 

Keith’s eyes go wide and he glances at Coran as if asking for help. Coran merely looks back at Keith, almost expectantly, before turning back to the scan’s readouts. 

Keith’s eyes fall back to Shiro and he takes a breath. “Uhm, well… Your arm. I mean, you don’t remember how you got it exactly, even before those assholes stole your memories, but it obviously must have happened in some medical facility. So,” he shrugs, “It makes sense that any place resembling something like that would bother you.” 

Shiro frowns and looks down at his robotic arm and something flashes in the back of his head. The sound of a whirring saw. A flash of burning agony. Yellow eyes staring down at him. They’re there and gone before he can really grasp them, but the split-second flashes are enough to make him shudder and he quickly looks away from the arm, searching for anything else to focus on.

“Shiro?” Keith asks, “Was that - did you just remember something?”

Shiro opens his mouth to answer, but is cut off by the entrance of the rest of Keith’s team, and a white-haired woman. She’s beautiful and exudes an aura of confidence and command. It makes Shiro uncomfortable and he shrinks away from her. 

Keith seems to notice and moves slightly to put himself between the woman and Shiro, but he says: “That’s Allura. She’s the princess of this castle ship. She’s a friend too.”

“Yeah, Allura’s totally cool!” Lance says. He’s much steadier of his feet that he had been before, and Shiro’s glad to see that. Something in his chest clenches when he thinks about how badly he could have hurt Lance. The idea of hurting any of the ones who had rescued him has quickly become nearly unbearable.

“Ah, just in time to hear the scan results.” Coran says, “Aside from some damaged vocal chords, and what appear to be electrical burns on his temples, he seems to be in good health. Doesn’t even need a pod. Unfortunately that also means that I can’t find anything to explain his amnesia.”

“I did.” Pidge pipes up from her spot on the examination table next to Shiro. She had hopped up there and opened her laptop on her lap while Coran had been speaking.

“When I was in the Winsea’s system in the lab we found Shiro in, I downloaded all the data that seemed to be linked to him.” Her voice shakes with what Shiro thinks is barely contained rage. “We already know that they’ve been watching him since his Champion days, they even asked him to join their army after we saved them from the Galra.”

Shrio blinks at her. He couldn’t fathom the idea of his captors asking him to do anything. 

“So when he said no, they decided to take him and make him into their perfect soldier by wiping all his memories and rewriting them with whatever they wanted him to remember. According to their data, they had one memory wiping session left before starting the rewriting.” 

Shiro pulls in a big breath. He had been right. If Keith and the others hadn’t come for him, or he hadn’t found some way to escape…

Pidge leans slightly into his side and Hunk steps slowly forward and reaches out to put a comforting hand on Shiro’s shoulder. 

Keith’s hands are clenched by his sides and he looks like he wants to stab something with the dagger strapped behind his back. 

Lance looks distressed. “So all his memories are completely gone now? Like chalk wiped off a teacher’s board?” 

Pidge shakes her head, “Actually, I don’t think so. If I’m understanding this data correctly, then it seems like they haven’t figured out how to actually erase a person’s memories yet. They call it memory wiping, but it looks more like they actually suppress the memories, and then have more wiping sessions when any memories start to resurface. Coran, would you look this data over and see if I’m right?” 

Coran nods, “Of course, Number 5, but first, Number 1, how would you like to have those vocal chords fixed?” 

It takes Shiro a moment to realise that Coran is speaking to him. He glances at the small bottle Coran is holding up for him to see and feels his lips twist into an uncomfortable frown.

“It’s okay, Shiro.” Keith says, “Coran’s not going to do anything to hurt you.”

“Goodness, no.” Coran says as if it’s the most absurd thing he’s ever heard, “This is just a little spray, see?” He uncaps the bottle and presses down on the plunger. A small puff of mist is expelled and hangs in the air for a moment. “One spray down your throat and your voice will be back to normal in less than a dobash. It may sting a little, as it has disinfecting properties, but other than that it won’t hurt. I assure you.”

Shiro glances uneasily back at Keith, but he, and the rest of his team, are all giving Shiro encouraging looks and nods. And he trusts them, so eventually he nods his permission at Coran. 

Coran smiles and steps closer, “Good lad. Now, just open up your mouth and it will be done before you know it.” 

Coran holds up the bottle of medicine, and Shiro takes another deep breath before doing as he asks. 

The spray tastes terrible and it does sting his throat, but it doesn’t really hurt, just like Coran said it wouldn’t. Shiro can already feel it quelling the burning sensation in his throat that he’d gotten so used to that he hadn’t even really noticed it anymore.

“Very good, Number 1.” Coran says with a warm smile, “Now just stay quiet for a little longer to give the medicine a chance to work, and then your voice will be back to normal! Now, let’s have a look at that data, Number 5.”

As he takes the laptop from Pidge, Shiro looks at Lance and motions to Pidge, then himself, uses his fingers to show 1 and then 5, then shrugs.

“Oh, he has us numbered by height.” Lance says, having completely understood Shiro’s question, “So you’re ‘Number 1’ because you’re the tallest, and Pidge is ‘Number 5’ because she’s the shortest.” 

Shiro nods because that actually made sense.

Hunk hums thoughtfully from his spot next to Shiro. 

“You caught that too?” Keith asks.

Shiro looks at Keith, confused.

“Yeah, he looked straight at Lance to sign a question at him. I mean, we’re all good at reading vague gestures and stuff because of Lance - but he still looked straight at Lance to ask his question instead of you, when he’s mainly been communicating with you since we got him back.”

Lance looks between them, obviously as confused as Shiro, “Huh?”

Instead of answering Lance, Keith looks at Shiro, “Why did you ask Lance?”

Shiro frowns at the strange question. He doesn’t know why he’d signed at Lance instead of Keith. He kind of just knew that Lance would be better at understanding him. He’s not sure how to sign that at them though, so he just shrugs and then glances at Coran, wondering if it’s okay for him to start talking again. But Coran and Pidge are both engrossed in the data Pidge had downloaded.

“You just knew, didn’t you?” The Princess asks, speaking up for the first time since entering the room, “That Lance would be the best to try communicating with in that manner?” 

Shiro glances up at her, surprised at how easily she’d read him, and then nods once.

Lance’s eyes go wide, “Wait. You just knew? That’s great, isn’t it? It means that his memories must still be there, right? They’re just suppressed, like Pidge said.”

“It would seem so.” Coran answers, surprising them all by his sudden return to their conversation. “The data Pidge gathered does indeed show that the Winsea only suppressed his memories, rather than erasing them.”

“So how do we unsuppress them, then?” Keith asks. 

“And please don’t say we just zap them back the same way the Winsea suppressed them in the first place.” Hunk says.

The idea of going through something remotely similar to what his captors had but him through sends a chill down Shiro’s spin and a violent shudder runs through him. He shakes his head vigorously at the idea. 

Hunk takes another step closer and wraps an arm around Shiro’s shoulders, pulling him close. “It’s okay. We won’t do it that way. We’ll find some other way.” Hunk says.

He gently tightens his grip as another shudder shakes Shiro. Shiro tenses at first, too used to being held down to stop his struggles, but the hold is comforting and supportive instead of restrictive. It doesn’t take long for Shiro to melt into the warmth that radiates from Hunk. He idly wonders if he’s ever been held like this before - if he’s ever felt this undeniably protected before. 

“By the Ancients, no! Of course we would never dream of using such barbaric means to restore your memories!” Coran exclaims. 

“Okay, then how?” Pidge asks, “The same way we got memories out of Sendak?”

“No.” Allura says, firm. 

Coran shakes his head at the same time, “The memory storage equipment only really works when the memories are given willingly. You saw how difficult it was to get memories from Sendak, and that was from someone who didn’t have suppressed memories. Besides, it will be an unpleasant experience for Shiro.”

Another shiver runs through Shiro and Hunk tightens his grip around Shiro’s shoulders.

“So what can we do, then?” Lance asks.

“We remind him of what he’s forgotten.” Keith says simply.

Coran nods, “Exactly. Being in a familiar place and around familiar people will eventually start to bring his memories back.”

Lance looks doubtful, “Are you sure that will work?”

Keith looks Shiro, “You’ve already started remembering some things, haven’t you? When we were talking about your arm earlier.” 

Shiro freezes for a moment, the same images and sounds flashing too quickly through his mind for him to really grasp again.

“I don’t know.” he says, and wow, he hadn’t known what his voice sounds like when his vocal chords are undamaged, “It’s just flashes of sensations, really. Nothing solid enough for me to really grasp. And nothing about any of you.”

That doesn’t seem to discourage anyone. 

“It’s a start!” Lance declares, “And better than nothing! So all we need to do is remind Shiro of all the things he’s forgotten?” he puts his hand on his hips, the picture of confidence. “Easy!”

But something tells Shiro it won’t be that easy at all.


	4. Show Me How to Be Whole Again

Two weeks later, his memory still hasn’t returned. 

The vague flashes and sensations that tease him with bits and pieces that never coalesce into solid memories plague him during the day. While terrifying nightmares that make no sense haunt him at night. Sometimes they involve his captors, the Winsea, shoving that infernal device on his head, leaving him writhing and screaming in agony as they burn away all of his memories, until he’s nothing more than an empty shell. The nightmares that don’t involve the Winsea are the worst. In those he’s almost always tied down while a pair of glowing yellow eyes hover above him, and an evil cackling that chills him to the bone fills his ears as claws dig into his body, or remove his arm in varying excruciating ways. Whatever the nightmare involves, he always wakes in a near panic attack and is unable to go back to sleep for the rest of the night.   
He wonders if this is what his life will be like now. He begins to think that he’ll never get his memories back. 

Of course, his continued amnesia is not due to a lack of effort on the part of the paladins. 

Hunk spent days in the kitchen and then presented Shiro with a plate of what he’d declared was space mac ‘n cheese. Keith had mentioned that mac ‘n cheese had always been Shiro’s favourite food, especially the Galaxy Garrison’s (which was apparently the place where Shiro had trained to be a pilot). Up to that point, the only food Shiro had known was the grey sludge that his captors had sometimes fed him, and the green space goo that he’d eaten with the paladins and Alteans since his rescue. He had no idea what mac ‘n cheese was, but he was willing to try anything that might pull something more than a vague sensation out of his concealed memories, so he dug into the new, blueish food. It was the best thing he’d ever tasted. And it did tug at some deeply buried thread to his memories. The smell of melted cheese. The sound of students chatting around him as they eat their lunch. The taste of the cheese mingling with that of the pasta lingering on his tongue. But it all flashes through his mind too quickly for him to get firm enough grip on to build a solid picture. 

He remembers the taste of the Garrison’s mac ‘n cheese enough to know that Hunk’s space mac ‘n cheese only taste’s a little bit different. But that’s all. He doesn’t remember actually being at the Galaxy Garrison, or actually sitting down and eating the mac ‘n cheese in the Garrison’s cafeteria. It’s nothing useful. It’s not who he is, where he comes from, what his purpose is. It’s basically nothing.

The others say it’s a step forward, to Shiro it feels less like a step and more like a slight shift. 

As Pidge and Hunk work together to remove the little block that his captors had put on his arm, Pidge talks to Shiro about her father and brother. Apparently Shiro had spent months on a spaceship with them. What she tells him also tugs at little strings in his memory. Vague flashes of emotions - some amused irritation, but also an awed respect. From what Pidge tells him, Shiro thinks the amused irritation must have been directed at her brother, Matt, while the respect must have been directed at her father, Sam. But he doesn’t really remember them. It’s more like she’s telling him about people he met once, many years ago, than people he’d spent months with in close quarters. Pidge seems encouraged by the emotions that Shiro remembers feeling, while Shiro is only frustrated that he can’t even remember their faces.

Lance finds him and talks about Earth. He tells Shiro about Earth’s skies, always different in every part of the Earth. He describes magnificent sunsets that colour the sky with varying shades of reds, pinks, and even purples. His words paint pictures of dark night skies, filled with stars that sparkle and shimmer as if dancing for the humans far below them. Lance speaks of spending nights on his parents’ lawn, staring up at those twinkling lights and longing to go up there, to be among them and to dance with them. His words stir up emotions in Shiro that leave him feeling nostalgic for times he doesn’t remember. For sitting on rooftops in warm desert air, staring up at the stars and longing to be among them. It’s perhaps the closest thing to a real memory that he experiences, but it’s still not an actual memory. He can’t recall specific instances of looking up at the sky and wondering what secrets hid in its depths. He remembers loving the sky, but he doesn’t remember why. He doesn’t remember what Earth’s sky looks like, no matter how hard he tries. His hates the Winsea for taking the sky from him. 

Keith draws out the strongest reaction. Like Lance, Keith spends hours just talking to Shiro, but unlike Lance, Keith talks about Shiro. He tells Shiro how they met, how much Shiro helped Keith, all the things they had experienced together. And, although Shiro can’t recall any of it, Keith is still the one he’s most comfortable with - the one person he’s certain that he’s always known - even if he doesn’t remember it right now.

But most of all, Keith talks about flying. He tells Shiro about the first time Shiro took him out for a flight in one of the garrison’s jets. He describes the exhilaration of soaring miles above the earth, cutting through the air at nearly unfathomable speeds. He speaks of the utter freedom that comes with flying, of just allowing your instincts to take over and letting go of everything that keeps you tied down to the earth. And Shiro feels that deep in his heart. Even more than the love for the sky and stars that Lance had stirred up, Shiro feels an unequivocal love for flying. His fingers twitch, muscle memory wanting to take over and wrap them around control yokes, to glide across the sky like a bird set free. But he doesn’t actually remember flying. He can’t recall sitting in the cockpit of any craft, let alone actually flying one. The thought of never flying again because he can’t remember how causes him physical pain.

Then, one night during the second week since his rescue, he wakes from a nightmare and he hears purring… in his head. The purring washes over his panic and calms his racing heart faster than he’s ever been able to manage on his own. As he sits in awe and listens to the purring he realises that it’s more than just that. It’s more of a wordless voice in his head - it’s impatient. It wants to know why he hasn’t come to see it yet. 

For a moment he wonders if he’s going crazy, if the Winsea and done more to damage his mind than just suppress his memories, but something about the voice feels incredibly familiar. So he follows it. 

The voice leads him through the halls of the Castle of Lions, straight to one of the hangars. He steps inside and finds the Black Lion, crouched down with it’s mouth open, waiting for him, and he hesitates. He’d been avoiding coming to the Black Lion. He didn’t remember it, he didn’t remember flying it. He hadn’t wanted to come to it only to disappoint himself and the lion when he couldn’t remember it at all.

The voice in his head seems to scoff at his uncertainty, and then encourages him to go into the lion, Shiro can almost feel it nudging him along. After a second more, Shiro relents and walks up the ramp, into the lion’s cockpit. He sits down in the seat and a feeling of belonging, of home washes over him. He closes his eyes and feels all the tension drain right out of him. For a moment he just sits and takes it all in. 

Then he reaches for the controls, and is almost overwhelmed by sudden flood of memories.

It’s almost painful, but the flood stops as suddenly as it had started and it leaves Shiro gasping. He can feel the Black Lion in his head, contrite feelings flow from it for nearly overwhelming him.

Shiro waves that apology off, because for the first time, the name Shiro, the name Takashi Shirogane, really feels like his and not that of a stranger. For the first time, Shiro feels like he’s actually starting to remember who he is. 

He gives Black the equivalent of a mental nod, giving the lion the go ahead. “Just slower this time.” he adds with a wry smile. 

The response is immediate. Black gradually removes the blockage in his mind, and the memories start trickling through. 

Eventually Shiro falls asleep, but Black keeps the steady flow of memories going. Shiro dreams of tasting the Galaxy Garrison’s mac ‘n cheese for the first time, of a times spent talking with Matt and Sam Holt. He dreams of stretching out on a little hill under the night sky to watch the stars. But most of all, he dreams of flying.

The next morning Shiro steps out of the Black Lion, with a smile on his face, to find Keith waiting for him. 

“You look better.” Keith remarks.

Shiro’s smile grows, “Remember the day before I left on the Kerberos mission, and I took you to see the ship?”

Keith nods, “Yeah, you were so excited that you were going to be the first pilot to fly a ship so far out into space and - wait.” Keith’s eyes go wide, “You remember that?!”

Shiro’s smile grows until he feels like his face might split in half and he nods, “And everything else.” 

Almost before Shiro even finishes, Keith practically throws himself into Shiro’s arms. 

Shiro wraps his arms around Keith and hugs him close. 

He looks up at the Black Lion and silently says two simple words that burn with more meaning that Shiro will ever be able to adequately convey: 

‘Thank you.’

**Author's Note:**

> This work is part of [VLD Tropes Fest](http://vldtropesfest.tumblr.com) | Comments and Kudos are appreciated | Anonymous creators will be revealed after the masterlist is posted!
> 
> Like my work? Please consider [buying me a coffee](https://ko-fi.com/W7W3KRCZ) :)


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